In the Light of Steele
by mat528
Summary: At the funeral of Alan Grievey. Laura and Murphy have a chat.


IN THE LIGHT OF STEELE

Chapter One

A/N: This should be a short story about a funeral after the events of Season 1's "In the Steele of the Night". In that episode, Alan Grievey, the head of the Havenhurst Detective Agency, invited Laura, Murphy, and three other detectives along with Remington Steele to solve a murder. Afterwards, he is found dead in an elevator.

This is a follow up, during which Laura and Murphy have a little chat.

Murphy Michaels drove Laura Holt to the Lawrence Cove Cemetary a week after Alan Grievey's passing. It was a warm Friday morning, and in a rare turn, nature was smiling with sunlight.

Murphy looked at his mirror and at the clouds reflected in it. "Doesn't it rain when somebody dies? All the funerals I've ever been to are like that."

"I wouldn't know, Murph," Laura responded, stealing a look at the pretty, blue sky before adjusting her fedora. "I haven't lost too many people."

Murphy turned down a curved, neatly paved street. "Well, it looks like Alan really prepared for this!" He said. Murphy and Laura saw tall, neatly cut trees and more mausoleums than usual. Flowers of every variety were neatly arranged on both sides of the road. Signs were behind the flowers, pointing out the letters of the alphabet where the deceased were buried.

Laura spotted Donald, Carl and Sandy out of her window. "There they are!" She cried to Murphy as they passed the "G" plaque. Carl and the others had been with her and Murphy during Alan's final hours, discussing a murder he'd been sharing. The next day, Alan was dead; and it took Remington Steele to suggest how the man who'd cared more for deception rather than detection had perished.

Murphy let Laura out, saying he'd park the car. Laura ran up the slight hill to where the others were standing. She saw Sandy, a curvy blonde with brown highlights, crying. Sandy dabbed her face as her mascara dotted the bags beneath her eyes. Laura hugged her, and before she could ask the question, Sandy said, "Robin's out of town at a conference and his mother is watching the kids."

Laura mouthed, "oh." Carl looked appreciatively at Laura's slender frame, black dress with pink piping matching her fedora, and long, brown hair blowing in the breeze.

"You look great, Laura," Carl said. Laura observed he was wearing a toupe and had a neatly pressed black jacket and white shirt. Donald, who was more heavy set, was wearing a similar outfit. He hadn't taken the time to cover his balding, lighter colored, scalp.

Suddenly a hand slid across Laura's back. "Doesn't she, though?" Murphy asked as he silently drew up beside her.

Carl's face sunk. He had been trying for Laura's affections ever since the reunion they'd had a week ago with Alan, but between Murphy and the continental Steele, he knew he couldn't compete.

"Yes, she sure does," Carl muttered. Sandy felt slightly left out. She wasn't really jealous; just disappointed that no one had noticed her. Carl withdrew behind the others as the minister came up.

"Sorry, I had to do another occasion before you all," he apologized. He was tall and wiry with a jovial expression and kind, brown eyes. He sported horned rim glasses with gold frames. They made his eyes appear very large.

"Is everyone present?" he asked.

A woman came up with a large hat. She removed it, shaking reddish blond curly hair out from under it.

" _Now_ we are!" She said imperiously. A man who was slightly shorter than she was, was next to her. He wore a navy blazer and a bowtie at the top of his pale blue shirt. His hair was not dotted with grey like Carl's and Donald's and was full and dark brown. It was combed but still unruly, and it was curly. The man had a Mediterranean look about him as thought he might have been Greek.

At Murphy's questioning look, Laura supplied, "Don't you recall Alan saying he had a sister when we worked for him at Havenhurst?"

"No, he never mentioned her a lot," Murphy said.

Laura nodded. "'Some falling out,' Alan had said," Laura commented, "only he never explained what the falling out was about."

"Please, take your seats," the minister said. They all looked at Alan, his face serene; his neck not showing signs that it had been broken. The navy blazer he'd been wearing at the time of death was what he would be buried in, and his carrot topped curls had been meticulously styled. His beard was trimmed so that it was not as full as it had been during his last night on Earth.

They all sat in the thin, metal chairs that were close to Alan's coffin. Holding up a Bible, the minister began.

Meanwhile, back at Remington Steele investigations, Berniece Foxe came into the fictional supervisor's office.

"Miss Wolfe," Remington said, not paying attention to the glare she sent him at his making fun of her name. "I thought you would be with Laura and Murphy, not that I don't appreciate your zeal at being at your post."

Bernice's dark eyes shot him a withering look. "I've never been to funerals," she confessed.

"Why?" Remington asked, his thick brows pursed with curiosity.

"My philosophy is to never look back," she said. "Funerals have a habit of making a person hang on. I'd rather say good bye from a distance." She shook her curly brown head. "I've never even been to my pet turtle's funeral when I was a child. My dad was the same way. He used to say, 'the past is the past. What can be done?'"

"Your father, though probably perceived as being cold by some, was a very smart man in my opinion," Steele said. "I myself have been to one or two, and it's always been a trying time for me."

Berniece leaned forward, resting her elbows on her neatly arranged desk. "Really? Who's funerals did you go to?"

Remington was affronted. "How crass of you, Miss Wolfe! I would never presume to ask about your dearly departed, yet you have the audacity to ask about one of mine. Shame on you."

"Just…we don't know anything about you. And, I'm dying to know, but…you're right," Berniece apologized. "I shouldn't have asked." A beat passed between them.

"There was a close friend of mine when I was a lad," Remington confessed. "I named him Humphrey. Never knew his real name." Sensing some real bonding had taken place between them, Berniece didn't pry any further.

"Did you go to his…" Berniece started to ask, but not wanting to offend him, finally said, "occasion?"

Steele nodded. "Yes, my older compatriots buried him at sea," he responded. "It was very poetic."

Berniece nodded. She looked off across the office, sighing.

"I hope Laura and Murphy can put his death behind them," she said. "Things just haven't been right since Mr. Grievey's death."

"They will, Berniece, they will." Steele said softly. Berniece and Steele exchanged a look and she smiled a timid grin. Berniece was the first to withdraw, selecting to file her nails. Remington went back to his office.

As the minister read from Psalms, Murphy saw Sandy, who was alone. Her being alone made him think about the one person he wanted to share things with for a long time.

He leaned toward Laura and said, "Laura."

"Yes, Murph?" She whispered.

"Let's walk a little after the funeral," he said.

"Okay." Laura said, sensing that he had something of vital importance to tell her and wondering what it was.


End file.
